


My little sister and me

by InkForBlood (tuzitokki)



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Family Fluff, Gen, Original Fiction, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Love, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 18:07:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16497611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuzitokki/pseuds/InkForBlood
Summary: A man narrates the most memorable moments of his and his little sister's love lives. Inspired by leonardomendoza's post on 9gag titled Amazing! T for swearing and an implied sexual situation. A bit of romance, but not romantic.





	My little sister and me

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-post from fictionpress. Possibly one of the softest things I have ever written. I love this work, I really do. I hope you enjoy it.

__

I groan as I hear the alarm clock shrill. My eyes catch a peek of the just-starting sunrise outside my bedroom window as I roll over to turn the noisy thing off before it wakes up the whole house. Sitting up, I again bemoan the fact that I am the eldest of three siblings, and therefore forced to wake up early so that I can get my turn at the bathroom the three of us share.

As I come out of my shower, I smell something that perks me up. Bacon. Eggs. Breakfast. Oh, yeah. I hurry up and dress, passing my nine-year-old sister—a quiet girl who could make you wish you were somewhere else when she looks at you with those puppy-dog eyes (yeah, so I'm a sucker for big eyes, live with it) which are now blurry and half-shut with sleep. We acknowledge each other with barely a grunt, both of us still trying to adjust from sleep-in summer mode to wake-up-early-for-school mode.

I'm quick about dressing and come downstairs immediately where my mom is cooking breakfast in her pajamas. I eye the pot of coffee longingly, but I know I wouldn't be allowed a drop until I'm living on my own. Instead I open the refrigerator and scavenge, finding a carton of orange juice and another of milk for the squirts. I take out both and pour the OJ into a glass. The milk goes to the center of the table where anyone who wants it for cereal could get it.

Dad gets down a few minutes later, taking over the stove from Mom. They've had this routine since as far back as I can remember; Mom starting breakfast while Dad takes his shower, then switching off so Mom can get her shower while Dad finishes cooking. It's kinda strange, seeing my Dad, a tough, muscular senior detective in homicide, cooking. Then again I've also seen Mom kick some serious ass during our weekly martial arts class, and she's a five-foot-nothing blonde-and-brown-eyed third-grade teacher, so I guess looks can be pretty deceiving.

A quarter of an hour later everyone is at the table. Geo, my youngest brother, is pretty excited about going to school for the first time, while Cleo is excited to see her old friends. As for myself, I'm just happy to be on my last year of high school, captain of the basketball team, and head of the debate team (yeah, weird combo, but that's what you get with an athletic dad and a bookworm mom).

Mom drives us to school (handy that she also works there) and Dad drives to the police station with his partner who, conveniently enough, lives right next door to us. Since our parents are close, Dad's partner's kid carpool with us, which is a really big bonus since I sort of have a thing for his daughter Stacy. We're best friends though, and I don't think I'll ever be able to risk that friendship for something that's so unstable (I know, lame, so just shut up).

First day of school goes smoothly. Geo and Cleo go to their respective buildings, Mom goes to the early first-day-of-school faculty meeting, and Stacy and I hang out while waiting for the rest of our friends. We talk about anything and everything—well she does most of the talking while I listen and get a few words in here and there—and before we know it, the rest of the gang has arrived.

We quickly get lost in the rhythm of our school. We attend classes, fool around, talk in between classes, fool around at lunch time, and fool around some more with some of our more approachable professors. Club meetings are set up after the last class, and we all plan on how we can entice freshmen into our respective clubs, giving off highly unlikely and foolish ideas more often than ideas that are actually useful. And then, club hour is over and it's time to go home, so Stacy and I walk towards my mom's car. We ignore the shouts of "Get a room before you start making out" or "You guys are acting like a married couple already" and even "You guys, just get married already, you're already so obvious!" I laugh them off, but when I look at my best friend and she's blushing and not meeting my eyes.

Oh. Well. Looks like I might give  _something more_  a go, then.

When we get to the car, Cleo is already there. It's somewhat surprising since she's usually the last one to arrive seeing as she has a lot of socializing aside from her club. We approach her somewhat noisily, but she only looks up with this startled expression on her face when we're already in front of her.

She looks at Stacy and me for a few minutes, her eyes like ping-pong balls during school tournament. Finally she rests them on me with this intense gleam that automatically puts me on guard. For a moment I fiercely wish that she'd settled them on Stacy instead since that look always means bad news for me.

"Leo, can you bring me to the public library later?"

I resist the urge to groan. I just know this isn't gonna end well. "Cleo, it's the first day of school. You can't already have an assignment wherein you need to go to the library."

She continues to look at me with those eyes that make you feel like a jerk if you don't give her what she wants. I restrain a curse, knowing I'd cave anyway. I  _did_  mention that I'm a sucker for big eyes, right?

She speaks again, determined. "It's not for an assignment. It's… personal."

"What's it for?" Stacy asks. I resist another groan. If Stacy gets involved in this craziness, I might as well plan my own funeral. No way will I be able to resist either of them, let alone both.

"I wanna look up something."

"What something?" I ask. Maybe I'll find something in the school library to help her without going to the town library. I  _hate_  going to the town library. The librarian there is weird. I mean seriously, what kind of librarian flirts with a seventeen-year-old-boy when she's already  _at least_  sixty?

I shake off my thoughts as Cleo answers. "Sign language. I wanna see if there's a book about sign language so I can learn."

Okay, back up. Why did Cleo have a sudden urge to learn sign language?

Stacy asked the question for me.

"Well, see, there's this new kid in our class, and he's deaf. No one can talk to him and he's always alone, and he looks so sad so I wanna try and see if I can cheer him up. But since he can't read lips and is still learning to speak out loud, I'd have to learn sign language first."

Stacy and I stare at her, both of us speechless. Sure, Cleo was kind, even though she could become downright vicious when provoked. And she's friendly. I mean, you've got to be friendly to know and be known by half the third-grade population, right? But for a nine-and-a-quarter-year-old to do this… I feel humbled.

Frustrated also, yes, since it turns out that I'm the one assigned to take her to the library and watch over the little brat. But I don't mind as much, since Stacy also hangs with us, so I get to try my hand at  _something more_. And when Mom saw how serious Cleo was about the whole learning sign language thing, she allowed the kid—and ordered me—to take sign language classes every weekend. Stacy joined in on that too, since she liked the little schmuck.

Tony—the said schmuck—is likeable enough, I guess. He's a shy little guy with wavy brown hair and blue eyes. Almost the exact opposite of Cleo, I guess, with her straight blonde hair and brown eyes. Their personalities are different too, but not so much that they can't get along. Where Tony is quiet, Cleo talks a mile a minute (and she's learning to sign just as fast… Stacy and I can barely keep up). Where he's shy, she likes to meet new people as often as possible. And where he likes to bury himself neck-deep in books, Cleo prefers to watch their movie or TV adaptation. But still, they balance each other out, Cleo introducing Tony to more friends and translating for them, him urging her to try reading more books once in a while instead of staying at the park all day.

Still, something about the way they interact bothers me. Specifically, the way Cleo's so protective and supportive of Tony, and the way Tony latches on to Cleo every time they're together. It's not really bad, but it kinda reminds me of a more… serious relationship than just friends. More like…

* * *

Oh, shit.

I hear something. It's this annoying loud sound, and it kinda sounds like a rooster at sunrise.

Wait. We don't  _have_  a rooster.

Right. Cell phone. Alarm clock.

I reach out to my small bedside table to turn it off. How I absolutely hate that thing. It keeps waking me up in the morning. Well, I know it's meant to do that, but  _still._  Ah, well. Awake now. Might as well get up and get ready for work.

Before I could sit up though, I feel a pair of arms go around my waist. Ah, shit. What the hell did I do last night? Surely I wasn't so drunk as to bring a girl home, get laid, and forget everything the next morning?

I cautiously turn to see who it is, and freeze. That shade of brown—it's more like mahogany—is too damn familiar. With the small gold hair clip that I'd given her for her birthday nine years ago shining at the top of her head, there's absolutely no mistake as to who I'd spent the night with.

I am so fucked.

Luckily for me, she barely stirs before turning around, and I assume, going deeper into sleep. I take the opportunity to rush into the shower, where I set the water as cold as I can tolerate. As it washes over me, I bang my head against the tiles.

What. The. Hell. Did. I. DO?!

I try to remember last night. Yeah, some of the off duty cops had gotten together to celebrate the fifty-to-life sentence of one of the city's biggest criminals. Since my partner and I had been a major part of the bust (it was my first big case by the way) we agreed to go. Turns out the 'celebration' would be held at the local bar, where we were treated to free drinks by just about every-damn-one. So I drank. Apparently, a lot.

I try to remember more. After the drinking challenge had started—a newly-transferred smartass detective from the other coast had challenged the town's best drinker—Ross (my dad's old partner) and I had thought to leave. My partner wouldn't let me though, so Ross had gone ahead, leaving me to the mercy of my squad mates. I'd sat at the bar, trying not to drink too much since I knew I'd have to get to the precinct early.

And then… Yeah. I remember now. A girl in faded blue jeans and red long-sleeved polo top with long mahogany hair and dark blue eyes (yeah, I always notice the eyes) had joined me at my spot by the bar, where I was watching the new guy's drunk antics. I'd turned my head a little, a normal red-blooded male checking out an attractive girl. I remember the way my breath had caught.

Stacy.

She'd been gone for eight years. Well, not  _gone,_  gone, but she'd left the city after high school. She'd gotten accepted to an Ivy League school for college, and had grabbed the opportunity with both hands. As a result, we'd had to cut off our barely-started relationship. Yeah, I'd gone for the gold back then, and had gotten broke.

I remember how she'd told me that she was leaving. After graduation, after all the parties, we'd gone to the place where I'd first kissed her. The stars had been out and bright with the moon, so we'd left the lights out and just lay there at the bed of my old pickup, staring up. She'd started humming a tune, and a while later her hands had come up, signing.

_I'll be leaving at the end of summer._

I'd thought she'd been joking back then. But she explained it all, how she wanted to go, how she wanted to explore the world. So in the end I'd done nothing to stop her, just asked her to try to maintain a long-distance relationship. And yeah, I probably sounded like a pansy, but I loved her.

It hadn't worked out, of course. Those types of relationships never do. So instead I'd gone to cop school, trying to forget how happy she'd looked with her new boyfriend in the pictures she sent to her parents. I don't hate her for that. She deserves to be happy, and a newbie cop can provide very little.

Apparently she's back now, with a degree in law—hah, we'd ended up in the same field after all—and determined to set up her practice here.

We'd caught up on some things last night, and when she asked I told her that I was at the bar instead of in the middle of the festivities because I wanted to avoid a major hangover. Just then someone had shouted at me to stop being such a lightweight pansy-ass, and I'd shouted back something just as insulting. Stacy had laughed, saying something about how I should never ignore a dare. That's probably how I'd ended up shit-faced last night.

I turn off the shower, thinking I'd procrastinated long enough. When I look at the bed though, she's still asleep, and I don't wanna wake her. So I just dress, leave a note beside her pillow, and leave.

Now, time to see if her dad would let me live.

* * *

I collapse against the rickety chair in my cubicle, nursing my sore jaw. The ice helped to numb it down, but I'd probably still have one hell of a bruise tomorrow. Oh, well.

Ross had been the first one to see me in the parking lot, and had immediately asked about his daughter. Apparently he'd been the one to direct her to the bar after she'd asked about me. I told him that she was at my place, and since it didn't take much of a deduction to piece together what had happened—booze, male, female, a whole night together and old connections—he'd drawn his own conclusions. He'd thrown the first punch and probably would have kept throwing them if my partner and some other cops hadn't gotten a hold on him. My partner—another of Dad's old friends—had asked what the hell was happening, and after I explained, he glared at me so hard I figured  _he_  would be punching me next. Luckily enough for me the commander had arrived just then and we'd dispersed.

I sigh as I boot up my computer. I'd be lucky to escape being ribbed, not to mention those two old fools would probably corner me after shift. I look for an excuse to be out in the field for the whole morning, but since the DeSotto case had been our top and only priority after being pulled into it, nothing came up.

Before I know it, it's lunch time and the squad is buzzing. I surface from the tedious paperwork, standing up to try and see what would stir a bunch of cops into such noise levels. Although, knowing this lot, it wouldn't take much.

I see a blonde head sandwiched by two brunettes, and groan. This is  _so_  what I do not need right now.

They make their way to the captain's room—Ross's room for the past two years—and I frantically try to think of an excuse to escape. None come to mind though, not even going out for lunch, since most of it is delivered by the canteen downstairs.

A few minutes later I hear a door slamming, and look up to see Stacy striding towards me with an angry look on her face. I, a cop of eight years in the state of New York, try to find a way to run away without looking as though I  _was_  running away. No such luck. Before I could even stand up she's already in front of me, putting both hands on either side of my face and turning it to get a look at my jaw.

"Still hurt?"

"Huh…?" Smart, Leo. Real smart.

"Your jaw, does it still hurt?"

"Uh…"  _Think, damn it!_  "No, not really. I already iced it down."

"Well, it looks like it'll still be bruising anyway."

"A little color won't hurt him," Cleo says, and I look over Stacy's shoulder to see my little sister smirking at me, Tony's arm around her shoulder. I glare at her then ask her boyfriend, "Why do you stay with her?"

He just smiles and shrugs. Although he'd learned to lip read and speak years ago, he remained a quiet man, which earned him points from me and Dad. Tony and Cleo had officially gotten together during their second year of high school. I'd seen it happening long before then, so I wasn't too surprised, but it did irk me that my little sister was no longer  _just_  mine (yeah, major brother complex). Ah, well.

Stacy turns and looks at her father, who'd gone to stand at his office door a few moments ago. "You had no right to hit him!"

"The hell I didn't!"

"May I remind you that I am legally an adult? In fact I have been for a few years now! I can damn well choose who I go to bed with!"

Oh, hell. I sink into my chair, desperately wishing that this wasn't happening in the middle of the squad room. That this wasn't happening at all, period.

Ross turns into an alarming shade of red. "That may be, but I'm still your father! I have a right to punch any boy who touches you!"

The whole squad quiets down. It isn't often that we see Ross, tough cop and the captain of Robbery-Homicide, behaving like an overprotective father. He's more of the tough-love, rough-and-gruff cop.

Surprisingly, it is the quiet Tony who breaks the awkward silence. "Mr. Ross, can Leo take the rest of the day off? I'm sure that after a major case closing his workload is very light."

Ross scowls even more but says, "Fine. But that's just for today, since he's just taking up space as it is."

I scowl at that—I hadn't been 'just taking up space', I'd been filing old paperwork!—but turn around to shut down my computer anyway. I'm not about to say no to a free afternoon, especially since the headache from last night's binge is still lingering.

Stacy goes to Ross, pulling the office door closed behind them. I can see them a little through the gaps in the blinds, and Stacy says something that makes Ross sigh and hug her. Then he says something that makes her laugh before pulling away.

She heads towards us and takes my hand in hers. I can see Cleo smirking at us again, but I choose to ignore her. Instead I stare at Stacy, who smiles back. Looking into her eyes, my worries go away.

We're gonna be fine, after all.

Stacy and I get in my car, and we follow Cleo and tony back to our parent's house. I wonder at this, since we don't normally barge into our parents' place in the middle of the day just to hang out. When we arrive, I pull my car behind theirs.

"What are you up to, midget?" I ask Cleo. She just smiles back as she takes Tony's hand.

"You'll find out soon enough."

Dad opens the door, which really surprises me. I know it's his day off today, and usually he'd be out fishing. Stacy must have called him earlier to make sure he'd be home. Now I'm worried. What the hell is up with her?

We gather at the kitchen table, talking about various things. Mom mostly asks Stacy about the last eight years, while Dad talks to Tony with the occasional comments from me. Geo arrives from school, happy to see everyone. Finally, Cleo clears her throat, and everyone looks at her.

"So, um, you're probably wondering why I asked you all her today." She stops nervously and looks at Tony. I get the feeling that he's holding her hand under the table trying to encourage her. She continues. "Well, you see, uh…"

When it looks like she's gonna choke before she can say her piece, Tony takes over. "Mr. and Mrs. Williams, I've been dating your daughter for three years now, and I've loved her for far longer. I hope you don't mind that I've asked her to marry me before getting your approval." He said the last part looking directly at Dad, then at me. His voice is steady and his eyes are sincere when he says the words.

We sit there in silence for a while. Geo looks confused, Stacy is smiling, and I can feel the shock running through our parents, though I wonder why. They had to have been expecting this. I mean, since meeting up at third grade those two had been close, and it had been the most natural thing when they'd announced that they've started dating.

"Are you sure?" Mom's voice is a little choked, and I can't really blame her. Her only daughter's boyfriend has just announced that his new title is  _fiancé._

Cleo finally seems to have regained her voice. "We're sure, Mom. We know we still have a lot to do, college and stuff, and we  _will_. But we also want to get married. It's not just a kid thing or first-love impulsiveness. We've been thinking about this since the moment we started dating."

Tony added, signing as he spoke, as he does whenever he feels agitated, "We'll also be going to the same college, and we didn't want to be… living together without your permission."

That sort of tied Mom and Dad's hands. What can they say? "We'd prefer you live in sin"? They were parents; they either agreed to the marriage or allow the two to just live together.

Another minute of silence passed. Abruptly, Mom burst into tears and stood up, running out of the room with the sound of her sobs following her. Dad looks after her before saying, "Don't worry about her, she's just really emotional." Then he stands up with a sigh, looking at the couple with a small smile. "I guess we have a wedding to plan."

* * *

A month later I am standing in Tony's bedroom, watching the man pace from one end of the room to the other. He's been doing it for the past ten minutes, and it's starting to drive me nuts. I tap on his shoulder as he passes by me.

"Would you mind sitting down?" I sign as well as talk, guessing that he's probably too nervous to pay attention to his lip reading skills.

He grins a little, signing back, "Sorry, I'm just so nervous."

"I know, man. You have been wearing a trail on your carpet for the last few minutes."

He laughs, and grabs one of the bottles of water left on his nightstand. He gulps half of it in one go before putting it back to free his hands. "I do not even know why. I love your sister, Leo. I've wanted to marry her for so long, and now that it's here I can feel my knees shaking."

"Don't worry, I will hold you up." He throws me a dirty look, to which I just laugh. "Look, you will either go out there to marry my sister in a few minutes, or you are going out there right now to call the wedding off."

He blinks at the words that I've signed. "You will let me back off?"

I shrug. "I do not want my sister to be stuck in a marriage where her groom is forced. If you back off now she will have an easier time getting over you than if you guys get married then just get divorced later on."

He looks lost in thought for a moment, then stands up to look out the window to the garden where the marriage ceremony will take place. "I love your sister," he signs again, not looking at me. "I know we are young, and most people, probably even you, think that we are being rash. But I love her, and if there is one thing I am sure of, it is that I want to marry her." He meets my eyes with a look full of determination and excitement, signing, "Now let us go down there to wait for the most beautiful girl."

I watch my sister walk down the makeshift isle in her simple white dress. Her smile is so big that I'm a little surprised her jaw doesn't crack. She's carrying some kind of bouquet with purple flowers, and her hair is put up in some kind of loose bun. Her cheeks are rosy with that glow they say all brides have, and she has eyes only for the man standing beside me, waiting at the altar.

Dad gives her away to Tony, and I notice that his eyes are a little shiny. He holds on to his tears though, as he turns back to sit beside Mom. Then the Cleo and Tony smile at each other, continuing until the priest clears his throat. They turn to him, and the ceremony starts.

I space out a bit, thinking back on my memories of my sister and the man she will soon call husband. I remember thinking of the trouble her little library 'outings' had cost me, how she and Tony would always tag along whenever Stacy and I hung out at the mall; I remember seeing her walking home the night before they had announced that they've started dating, and seeing the dreamy look in her eyes and the flush in her cheeks. I remember her excitement about the prom a couple of years ago, and how they'd gotten into an argument about something afterward—they still haven't said about what though—and how Tony had haunted our house for the next two weeks, not giving in until Cleo had come out to talk to him. I remember the times I've seen them hanging out and they didn't know I'd seen them, the big smiles on their faces and the look in their eyes.

I snap to attention when I hear the priest ask, "Do you, Cleopatra Williams, take Anthony Jacobs to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?" The priest signs the words as he speaks, a request that Cleo made despite Tony's insistence that he could just read the priest's lips.

"I do."

And as she says and signs those words, I see the joy and absolute certainty in her face, and it finally hits me that she's not just my little sister anymore. She's someone else's wife, and sometime in the future she will be a mother. Someday she will have a family of her own, a life which will include me only marginally.

I only barely hear the priest ask the same question to Tony but I see his response. In his face is the same joy and conviction that was in my sister's. I can see how much he loves her, how much he cherishes her, and I know that he will never leave her. They will have their arguments and rough times, but I know that in the end, they will survive whatever life throws at them, because they love each other that much and are determined to make each other happy, to make this marriage not just work but  _thrive._  And as the priest allows Tony to kiss his new wife, I feel a lump in my throat for the little part of my sister that I have lost, and the bright possibility of the future that awaits them, but I don't mind so much.

I'm allowed to feel a little mushy on my only sister's wedding day, right?


End file.
